


bespoke

by Athina_Blaine



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, M/M, Shopping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-05-04
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:54:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24003145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Athina_Blaine/pseuds/Athina_Blaine
Summary: Martin tries on new clothes, mostly for Jon's benefit
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Comments: 16
Kudos: 211





	bespoke

“Thinking of buying it?”

Martin leapt back with a startled yelp, dropping the suit jacket’s price tag. “Jesus Christ, Jon, what are you doing? I thought you were buying the groceries.”

Jon held up the plastic bag filled with the ingredients for tomorrow’s dinner.

“Oh. Well.” Martin flushed, crossing his arms and turning away. “Go slower, next time. You nearly gave me a heart attack.”

“I’ll be sure to ask the checkout lady to take the time to appraise each item during our next trip.”

“You best.”

Jon knocked shoulders with him before turning to the clothes rack. He flipped over the recently dropped price tag and hummed pensively.

“Expensive, right?” Martin asked.

“Actually, that’s pretty cheap. Price like that, I wouldn't expect it to last two years. I suppose it’s just the jacket, though.”

“It’s _£60_.”

“The first suit my grandmother bought me ran near £600. Grew out of it within a year, though. Shame.”

Martin brought a hand to his forehead. “You disgust me.”

“Do you want to buy one?”

“I don’t know. Maybe? I’ve never had one before.” Martin kicked at a scuff on the tiled floor. “I know it’s just going to be Basira and them tomorrow, but, you know, it’s our first … _thing_ as a couple. It would be nice.” He glared at the offending price tag. “That’s _just_ for the jacket, though. Forget about it. Let’s head back.”

“Wait.” Jon grabbed his wrist. “Let’s drop off the groceries and go to an actual clothing store. You can try something on.”

“Come on, Jon, don’t kid.”

“I’m serious.”

“We can’t afford it!”

“Just try it on. See how it feels.” Jon stroked a thumb over his pulse. “Indulge me, please?”

Martin let out a haggard breath. It was hard to resist when Jon said _please._ “Fine. Okay, we can check it out. I pick what’s on TV tonight, though.”

“Done.”

“How does it feel, sir?”

Martin stared into the mirror, knees locked and arms crossed.

“Feels, uh … nice.”

Of _course_ it felt nice. The fabric was light and soft and draped around his body in a way that could trick someone into thinking he was the kind of person who actually had any business wearing something like it. He also _really_ liked that shade of blue.

Jon was staring up at him from beside the podium, eyes bright.

Martin sighed. “Yes, okay, it looks amazing, I feel like a proper posh arsehole. Are you happy now?”

“Are you?”

“I don’t see how that matters since we’re not buying it.”

Jon licked his lips. “Well.”

“Jon.”

“Martin, you’re fully aware that my grandmother left me a respectable inheritance, and she would be overjoyed that a nice young man is choosing to wear a proper suit. She always cursed the day t-shirts became popular. Just think like you're doing this for her.” He turned to the store’s assistant. “Could you get this custom fitted by tomorrow?”

“We accept rush orders, although the total price will be increased.”

“Jon, _no—_ ”

“It’s fine—”

“This is a _huge_ purchase.”

“It’s my money—”

“Yes, it’s _your_ money, that you can use on a house, or a new car, or some giant medical emergency.” Martin stepped off the podium, taking off the jacket. “I’m not comfortable with this.”

Jon’s eyes dimmed. “You deserve to have nice things.”

“I _have_ nice things, Jon. You made me crepes for breakfast yesterday.”

“I burnt those.”

“Yeah, you did.” Martin smiled. “You don’t need to buy me a new suit on top of everything else.”

“How about this?" Jon placed a hand on his shoulder. "We go to a regular department store and buy something there. £200 max.”

“Jon.”

“That doesn’t include a fitting order, though.”

“Jon, I don’t need it fitted.”

“Nonsense. Everyone deserves at least one fitted suit.”

Martin sighed, long suffering and endlessly fond. “Okay, fine. If you’re so determined, I will allow you to use your own money to buy me a completely unnecessary suit. But you can’t buy me anything for my birthday.”

“Okay, wait, there's something I have my eye on, you at least have to wait until the next one.”

“Goddamn it.”

Jon dropped a kiss on his mouth. “Thank you, darling.” Then, he winced, turning to the assistant. “Sorry.”

“It’s no matter,” said the man in a tone that very much implied it did matter but it would be impolite to say it outright.

When Martin exited the fitting room, Jon grabbed his hand and led them out of the store.


End file.
